


The Missing Key

by VermontScribble



Category: Layton Kyouju Series | Professor Layton Series
Genre: Azran Legacy, Azran Legacy Spoilers, Infinite Vault of Akbadain, Miracle Mask, Other, Swift is Azran, Swift is a key, Targent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:47:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27374443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VermontScribble/pseuds/VermontScribble
Summary: Targent find themselves one step ahead when one of their agents turns out to have a remarkable talent.
Relationships: None
Comments: 2
Kudos: 2





	The Missing Key

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheMockingJ3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMockingJ3/gifts).



> To my dear friend, I had mentioned writing something in this vein and I truly hope I didn't disappoint. It would honour me if you were to write something similar inspired by this as our discussion did see Swift as an Azran reincarnation. I hope you see fit to create something similar. I would be truly welcome to let you take the reins.  
> That aside, I intended on this work being a little more descriptive and perhaps more purple in its prose, but alas, that didn't happen. Nevertheless, enjoy, all of you. I hope it is sufficient.

Descole sat silently that evening in the Bostonius. He had made a grand mistake of thinking Randall was clever enough to find the lost ruins of Akbadain. He had made a fault that he was hardly proud of, and, looking back on it he realised that Randall was not the key he was looking for at all. 

As he ponders through his notes and extensive research into the Infinite Vault, he stumbles upon something, written in scrawled handwriting which was not his own. It belonged to Layton, and he was sure he must have picked up the note by utter mistake. However, the clue written upon it made him see something he had looked over. That even Layton had failed to see. 

“Raymond! Come here!” Descole exclaims, and ever faithful Raymond totters over, empty mug in his pale hand. 

“Aye, master? What be the problem?” He asks. Descole points to the scrawled note, and asks if Raymond could make any sense of it. He was sure what he was reading was correct, but he needed a second pair of eyes and a clearer opinion. Raymond reads it, confirming Descole’s suspicions. 

“There’s a key to the Infinite Vault. Something I didn’t consider. If I find this key, I’ll be ahead of Layton, and Targent,” Descole says. He’s got a sly grin growing on his face, and his expression warps to that of a smug politician. Raymond finds it somewhat comforting that his master was back to his ways after their run-in with Targent. 

“Aye, master. Which will mean you can finally get to looking for the final piece of this puzzle,” Raymond says, and makes for the kitchen. Descole is pleased with himself for accidentally grabbing this note, and thinks it might not be so bad at all. He pins it into his notebook with a paperclip and begins to look for anything, any snippet, any clue, that could hint to this so-called ‘Missing Key’. 

* * *

Bronev paces once again in front of the Infinite Vault, clearly vexed. It was clear the Vault required a key, and he was sure he knew where this key was, but he’d suddenly forgotten. He had done research for months into what the Azran called the ‘Missing Key’, and once he had found the information, he had gone and lost it again. 

“Boss? Shouldn’t we start headin’ out? The lads have got trouble up in Ambrosia,” A tall agent with a long, thin face says. His badges indicate him as Zambian and his name, Shoebill. 

“Send out your group, Shoebill. I’m staying posted, although I am sure you will be able to carry out your duties,” Bronev says. The agent gives a brief nod and marches off, shouting to some younger agents who seemed to be newer recruits. They were practically tiny, and one of them seemed so stick thin you could almost break him in half. 

“This ‘Missing Key’, boss. Where do you suppose we find it?” Another agent asks. He’s another of the junior agents, and quite small. Bronev looks at him with a familiar glint in his eye. 

“I have an inkling, Penguin. Now, back to your post. Send your superior over,” 

Penguin all but waddles off. He had always had a strange limp, but Bronev assumed it was due to the fact one of his legs was prosthetic. He didn’t pry into each agents’ life, but some of the people he hired were intriguing, to say the least.

* * *

Descole, now dressed as his normal persona, Desmond, looks down at another photograph he'd taken quickly whilst on the site of the Infinite Vault. It was of the doorway, a large and spectacularly built thing with intricate designs that glowed a familiar blue. The Azran were truly remarkable in their feats of architecture and engineering, that was for sure. Next to the door had been a tablet, with a simple verse. However, the verse was written much like a poem and must be solved like a riddle. 

“Raymond, I must be doing something wrong,” Desmond sighs, writing down the fifth answer he had come up with to answer the silly riddle that he’d been given by the Azran. Raymond chuckles. 

“Nonsense, master. Aye, the way I see it, ye just need to look at it differently, is all,” Raymond suggests, and makes himself busy with a task. Desmond furrows his brows, and turns the photograph upside down. Low and behold, written between the lines, was the answer. The Azran were known for being tricksters, but Desmond never knew it went this deep. Perhaps this was so the Infinite Vault could only be accessed by a select few. 

“I’ve got it! This ‘Missing Key’ is just as all others have been before. It is not an object, but more rather, a person!” Desmond exclaims. Raymond nods, and quickly hurries over. 

“So, you think, master, that if ye find this person, you’ll be able to get into the Vault?” 

“That’s exactly it, Raymond. The tablet says this person went by the name ‘Skylar’. He had hair as fair as angel wings, and eyes that matched the oceans and the earth. His skin was ruddy like the ground,” Desmond says, reading from notes he had translated from Azran. 

“So, a tall person with blond hair, dark skin and heterochromia. I believe that is the condition in which a person has different coloured eyes,” Desmond continues as he makes more notes. Raymond bites his lip. 

“Aye, I’ve seen someone who matches yer description alright. He were skulking around near the Vault. Round back, mind you, not near Targent’s lot,” Raymond explains. Desmond finds this as a perfect (almost, as Targent were patrolling almost the entire perimeter of the Vault) opportunity to find his ‘Missing Key’ and open the Vault. 

* * *

“Swift! Make sharp and stand to attention!” Bronev shouts over the din of agents yelling and helicopters whirring. A young man with the most striking mess of blond hair makes his way over and salutes his boss, a blank expression on his face. His features were pretty, anyone could see, but the scar that cut across his face made him look menacing. 

“Tell me something, love. Your name, what was it again?” Bronev asks. Swift rolls his shoulders until his back clicks with such a noise he could hear it over the din of the surroundings. 

“Skylar, sir. Why is this important?” 

“Because, Swift. You saw it yourself, didn’t you. The door on this vault explains that only one person can open it. You are the only person I’ve met who perfectly fits the description,” Bronev explains. Swift cocks an eyebrow, but looks strangely confident at the same time. 

“Are you sure Sycamore hasn’t figured that out?”

“I’ll bet every last penny he has, and I can assure you that’s why we must get to this, quick stat. You’re a smart lad. Go on, be my guest,” Bronev insists, gesturing to the door of the Infinite Vault. With this one open, all of them would be opened, and then they would finally figure out what the Azran had left inside. Finally, Targent was one step ahead. 

* * *

“Drat,” Desmond simply exclaims. 

“Well, it seems I were wrong, master. We’ll be lucky next time, I promise you that much. Now, where to?” Raymond asks. Desmond sighs again. Defeated by a blond brat. He needed to know more about this ‘Swift’. 

“Take us to London, Raymond. I’ve had an idea,” 

**Author's Note:**

> Send any requests to my Tumblr (voutraixmont or vermontwrites).

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [All For Naught](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29019324) by [TheMockingJ3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMockingJ3/pseuds/TheMockingJ3)




End file.
